


Memory of Sun

by Lacertae



Series: Takane no Hana [1]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Cover Art, Developing Friendships, Digital Art, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rain, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4941691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Pre-slash Doumeki/Watanuki* During a rainy day, Watanuki encounters a new spirit on his way to school.</p><p>---</p><p>“That’s a nice umbrella you have there, boy”.</p><p>Startled out of his panicked thoughts, Watanuki almost dropped both the umbrella and the bento boxes as he spun around, pressing his back against the wall and looking at his right. The house he was using to keep out of the rain ended abruptly in a corner and there was a concrete wall surrounding the house’s garden, and sitting on top of the wall, like it was the most normal thing in the world, was… an owl.</p><p>Watanuki blinked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory of Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic takes place after volume 13 of the manga. It is the first in a series of fanfics I plan to write which will slowly diverge from canon and replace the ending. I will tag and warn accordingly for the parts that stick to canon.
> 
> Many thanks to jjblue1 on tumblr for spurring this idea on and allowing me to rant to my heart's content about xxxholic and my fix-it idea.
> 
> Glossary for food terms and miscellaneous words at the end.

**Memory of Sun**

 

 

That morning, the sky was a bright blue with no cloud in sight.

Watanuki woke up early and in a good mood, stretching and feeling like he had dreamed of something nice, even though he could not remember exactly what the dream had been about.

He was facing the window, and when he noticed the weather outside he allowed himself to be lazy for a few minutes, simply enjoying the warmth of his bed and the intense colour of the sky before finally slipping out of his futon to start the day, opening the window to let in the cool morning air as he tidied up and put the futon away.

Once out of the building, the sun warm on his skin, Watanuki was glad he’d left his coat at home, sure it would grow warm enough later that they would be able to eat lunch outside today.

The streets were empty and clean, and though he kept an eye out for any stray creature or cluster of twisted smoke that might appear to chase him, he did not encounter any, not even a small one.

He took care to check just in case he had to hurry, but was relieved to reach the school without anything weird popping up.

It was happening more and more often as of late –Watanuki had noticed that, but he could not remember when he’d stopped seeing them even when he was alone. Ever since the line between wake and dreams had started to blur for him, and he kept falling asleep and dreaming, Watanuki had been unable to keep his thoughts coherent on the passage of time. It was a bit alarming, but he’d already decided to just wait, and it wouldn’t do to let himself worry about things he could do nothing about.

He knew that he would understand soon, and he trusted Yuuko to tell him when the time was right.

Because of that, Watanuki was determined to do his best, and that helped him to keep going, and made him want to enjoy the life around him for as long as he could.

Watanuki found himself humming softly under his breath. The temperature outside was warm, the day was beautiful, and he had spent some extra time before leaving his house in order to prepare some more tamagoyaki to bring over to the shop later on, which he knew would make both Yuuko and Mokona happy.

His good mood lasted through his classes as well, and when lunchtime arrived he was joined outside by both Himawari and Doumeki, the latter’s eyes glancing his way (specifically to the bento boxes he was carrying, that gluttonous fool) as Watanuki chatted up with Himawari about this and that, resolutely ignoring the big oaf’s attempts to take a peek of the food before he finally shared it between the three of them, keeping the tamagoyaki box at his side so Doumeki wouldn’t get any ideas.

If he had to be honest, Doumeki’s company wasn’t as annoying to him anymore, even if he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he had noticed that either; Doumeki was still as silent and mulish as before, and his stubbornness still made him want to rip his hair off, but… Watanuki wasn’t even sure where he was going with this thought process. Nothing had changed, not really, but…

He risked a glance to his right, eyes narrowed a bit as he tried to decipher Doumeki’s blank look while he quietly ate his lunch, then looked away in a hurry before he could get caught staring.

No, Watanuki could not deny that Doumeki’s constant presence was puzzling, and despite their banters and how annoying he was all the time, Watanuki knew he owed Doumeki a lot. Between the eye they shared and the fact that Doumeki had helped him again while at Kohane’s house, it was no wonder he felt so conflicted about him.

Watanuki knew there was _something_ he was missing –like an extra piece of puzzle, one he continued turning in his hands, trying to fit it somewhere, but that he couldn’t place down. Doumeki was a bit like that –an annoying, nerve-wrecking puzzle piece that just did not fit.

He felt that if he just concentrated a bit more, he would get it –something about what Yuuko had told him once, something about the way Doumeki’s sharp gaze always seemed to focus on him, something…

“Ah,” Doumeki’s quiet sound made both Watanuki and Himawari glance at him.

“What now?”

“I want kushikatsu tomorrow”.

Left eye twitching, Watanuki sprung up on his knees and clenched his hand into a fist, his whole body conveying how annoyed he was at Doumeki’s casual demand. “Like hell I’ll make that! Do you think I wake up at sunrise just to make you food? You should just be grateful I prepare lunch for you too, instead of making such demands!”

Doumeki looked at him, and seemed to think it out for a moment, chewing on a piece of uramaki, then shrugged. “Then make me agedashi dofu,” he said.

“How do you think I can bring hot broth to school?! This is even worse than kushikatsu!”

Instead of listening to him, Doumeki resumed eating, reaching with his chopsticks for Watanuki’s own bento to steal one of his shrimps, which prompted another one of Watanuki’s flailing rant, and kept Himawari and Tanpopo amused until the end of their lunch period.

After school, as usual, Watanuki went to Yuuko’s place for his part-time job.

It had taken him a while to find his way around the shop, and one of the first things Watanuki had learned about it was that there would _always_ be things in it that he’d never seen before.

The shop was quite big, with wide corridors and big rooms filled with a lot of junk that Yuuko seemed to have collected in who knew how long; he had been working there for a while in order to ‘pay back’ Yuuko for his ‘wish’ (both words, even in his mind, were enunciated with heavily implied finger quotes, considering the forceful nature of their agreement at the time and the hours that kept adding up to his tally) and while it had taken Watanuki a long time to be able to say he’d explored every corner of every room, new things seemed to pop up without him noticing, like they’d always been there.

Whenever Watanuki entered the treasure room to pick up something for Yuuko, he would find it conveniently placed where it was impossible not to see it, even if it had not been there before; he resolutely turned a blind eye on this and pretended that it did not bother him, and simply moved on, even if there was a lingering curiosity in him.

He knew that if he allowed himself to think about it, he would question every single object he saw, and where it came from. The pink magic wand with the bird-like shaped beak that Yuuko had mentioned coming from an alternate universe Sakura, for example, or the weirdly shaped ear-receivers he’d used during the whole Angel-san trip with Doumeki. The shop was full of that kind of things, and while he knew that most of them were meant to be precious in some way –used as payments for things of equal value– he still wondered who their owners had been, and what could have been important enough for them to give them up. Still, Watanuki knew that sometimes curiosity couldn’t be satisfied.

Especially after meeting Yuuko –now he knew that everything had a price.

So he contented himself with the things Yuuko told him on her own volition, and firmly focused on the only thing he could do –keep the shop clean and maybe also Yuuko from drinking herself into an early grave. So far he knew he’d done a good job at both of them, especially the first (as Yuuko tended to sneak alcohol past him whenever he was busy cleaning).

And if he still thought about whatever Yuuko could be wishing for herself, and if it could be something he might help her with… well, that was something else, anyway.

Watanuki spent the afternoon airing old duvet covers, blankets and carpets, digging them out from one of the many closets while Yuuko and Mokona lounged nearby, ordering him around and being nuisances until they found Watanuki’s stash of tamagoyaki and ate them all, grousing for the lack of good alcohol to go with the food, much to Watanuki’s growing annoyance.

The day had been sunny when he started bringing the stuff out, but as the afternoon progressed, Watanuki found himself looking up at the sky more and more often. Heavy, grey clouds slowly advanced to cover up every inch of it, until the last tiny patch of blue was eaten away; he managed to finish up by the time the first few droplets of rain started to fall, rushing inside with the last few armfuls of bedsheets clutched to his chest and Mokona’s encouragement ringing in his ears, and when he finally put everything away back in the closets it was almost dinnertime.

The sky was now ominous and grey, and the temperatures had dropped enough that Watanuki shivered as he approached Yuuko and Mokona, looking out into the front lawn with a small grimace; he did not want to run all the way home, even if it wasn’t raining that hard yet. At least he had managed to finish up all the cleaning for the day, which at least was a consolation.

“Watanuki, I think this is the perfect time to share a drink and watch the rain, don’t you agree?”

Slouched on the patio, kimono sliding down one shoulder, Yuuko stretched lazily and stared up at Watanuki with an expectant expression, managing to sound both languid and whiny at the same time; Mokona bounced up to her, seconding the motion with a heartfelt double flip, and Watanuki groaned softly under his breath.

“No way,” he said, arms crossed to better hold his position against Yuuko’s whining. “You haven’t eaten anything all afternoon except rice crackers, I’m not going to give you any alcohol without food to go with it! You’re going to eat _dinner_ first!”

Yuuko’s smile was almost too eager as she pushed his leg with one hand, trying to make him move towards the kitchen. “If Watanuki is going to cook, then I want sanma no shioyaki!”

All his good mood vanished like smoke in the wind and Watanuki spun around and out of her grip, glaring down at his employer, “that’s a fall dish! We’re in _spring_! You’re being unreasonable again!”

“It’s Watanuki who’s being unreasonable now,” Yuuko groused, turning to stare at Mokona. “Big meanie Watanuki…”

“Yeah, meanie!” Mokona agreed.

For a moment Watanuki almost expected Maru and Moro to pop up from somewhere and start repeating ‘meanie meanie Watanuki’ while twirling around him, but the two did not appear; they had been absent as of late, and he was starting to miss them.

As if sensing that something was missing, Mokona jumped on his head and he started flailing, almost falling on the floor. “Then I want hiramasa sashimi!”

Watanuki grabbed Mokona with one hand, tugging him off his head and dropping him down with a scowl. “Who said you had any say in this?!”

His answer was Mokona grabbing the edge of his shirt, chanting “Hiramasa hiramasa~!”

“I get it! Fine! I’ll make that sashimi, but you’re only getting three cups of sake to go with it! No more!”

“Noo, Watanuki, be nice! At least six cups! Six!”

Watanuki made a hasty retreat to the kitchen before the situation could escalate further, shaking his head, and set himself to prepare dinner.

He had every plan to leave afterwards, but by the time both Yuuko and Mokona were satisfied with the food and the drinks, and had managed to sneak past him at least one extra cup of sake each, the sky had darkened further, and the drizzle had turned into heavy raining.

Watching the soppy, muddy ground of the front lawn, Watanuki realised with a start that his only umbrella was back at his apartment, since the weather had been sunny for most of the day, and while he was busy considering his options he was ambushed by Mokona, who jumped on top of his head again and almost had him stumble out and into the rain.

“Hey, watch out!”

Yuuko quietly walked up to him, eyes inspecting the sky and then the empty space outside of the shop’s perimeter, her gaze unreadable. Watanuki was too busy squabbling with Mokona to pay her any notice, so he did not see a flutter of something dark curling at the edge of the tall fence, nor her eyes narrowing.

“Watanuki, you should sleep here tonight,” she told him, looking serious enough that he stopped pinching Mokona’s cheeks to stare at her.

“Wha… why? Is there something wrong?”

Her serious expression melted into glee as she twirled around, “I want to eat grilled saba tomorrow morning!”

“Just for _that_?!”

“Grilled saba, grilled saba~!”

Mokona wriggled out of his arms and smiled before adding, “And don’t forget rhubarb liquor!”

“What does _that_ have to do with saba?!”

Later, Watanuki found himself tucked in bed, glasses neatly folded on the small bedside table and both Mokona and the Kudakitsune cuddling with him (and with Mokona’s foot dangerously close to his mouth). The room around him was dark, and the sound of rain outside was calming, and Watanuki found himself pleasantly tired, his body heavy and cocooned under an extra blanket, just in case.

Mugetsu’s body was warm against his skin, loosely curled up next to his head instead of around his neck since Watanuki was afraid he would get squeezed in his sleep, and Mokona’s deep breathing slowly lulled him into sleep, his round body almost an extra pillow.

He had accepted to stay for the night often lately, not just when he was hurt, but even just because Yuuko asked him to, and it was too easy for him to agree without even needing an excuse.

No matter how weird the shop was, and how infuriating it was to be around Yuuko and Mokona when the two started drinking each other under the table, he enjoyed sticking around for a bit longer. This was a place that wanted him, and while the thought should not be such a novelty, Watanuki still found himself cherishing it.

He’d enjoyed Maru and Moro’s company too, and he couldn’t help but think that something was wrong since the two were never around, but this was another thing he couldn’t ask Yuuko, and a part of him was afraid of what the answer could be to that.

Compared to how he felt when working at the shop, his apartment was… a bit lonely, maybe.

He’d grown so used to living by himself, that he’d never stopped to consider how it felt to be in a house where other people lived. He knew he’d been taken care of by his landlords, but since he couldn’t even remember their faces, thinking about the past was useless. It only made him afraid, and he couldn’t afford to focus on that.

With the sound of the rain pitter-pattering against the window, Watanuki closed his eyes, one hand coming to pet the Kudakitsune’s soft body. Mokona mumbled something under his breath about sake, nuzzling his cheek, and Watanuki smiled to himself, softly, and did not dare to move, else he’d break this careful, soft peace.

He did not even notice when he fell asleep and slipped into another dream.

***

“Watanuki”.

Yuuko’s voice shook Watanuki slightly, and he blinked softly.

He was standing in front of the sink, the water running over his hands, and he hastily turned the faucet and wiped his hands on his apron, panicking for a second before he noticed there was still time before he had to leave the shop.

He had fallen asleep again, he knew that –Yuuko was looking at him with a small crease of her forehead, the way she seemed to look at him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking– but for a moment he could not remember what he had been dreaming…

Something about water, perhaps. Or rain. Fish swimming in the air, enjoying the water… and the cat-girl, the one Yuuko had asked for help with finding the water she’d sent Shaoran.

“I’m almost done here, Yuuko-san,” he said, and her pensive look was quickly replaced with eagerness. “ _Yes_ , I’ve prepared the grilled saba, so you can eat it while I’m off”.

“Don’t forget the liquor Watanuki! No fried fish is good without some good sake to go with it!”

“I wonder if you even taste the fish, with all the sake you drown it with,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly.

Yuuko managed to look hurt at that, and pressed one hand on her chest, the drama queen. “Of course, Watanuki! It’s just that the sake complements your food so well, you’re quite the splendid cook!”

Mollified by her compliment, Watanuki turned to look at her. “Yuuko-san…”

“So how about some extra sake, hmm?” she nudged him in the ribs, and Watanuki’s flush disappeared instantly.

“I knew it! You’re just fishing for more alcohol! I’ll hide the bottle away, you just watch!”

He stomped over to the treasure room, knowing full well that he would end simply giving in and bringing one last sake bottle over for Yuuko to enjoy while he was gone, and then noticed there was an umbrella neatly propped on the side of the wall, almost as if waiting for him to notice it.

“Huh? Was this always here…?”

Mokona, looking up at him with an air of importance, tapped the umbrella with its small paw. “It’s still dark and gloomy outside, and Yuuko said you’d better take this with you!”

“Ah–” he peeked into the treasure room, where the window was, and had to admit that the sky looked, indeed, dark and gloomy.

Still, borrowing something from Yuuko always had the displeasing effect to make him even more indebted to her than before, so he hesitated for a moment before grabbing the sturdy-looking umbrella.

It was not one of those modern kinds, but a traditional wagasa, tied with a string around it to keep it closed. He could not see the pattern on the paper, but the colours seemed to be just blue and red, not what he’d expected from Yuuko at all.

“Ah… Yuuko-san… can I really borrow this umbrella…?”

She looked up, hands making grabby motions until he handed over the sake bottle, then she nodded, looking happy and at peace with the world now that she had her sake.

“Of course! Consider the payment this delicious grilled saba you prepared for me and use the umbrella to your heart’s content!”

“Then… thank you, Yuuko-san!” he clutched the umbrella to his chest with a smile, then hurried towards the kitchen to finish preparing the bento boxes before leaving.

***

Just like the day before, Watanuki walked to school alone and undisturbed, the bento boxes neatly piled in a bag and the umbrella tucked under his arm.

At first he wondered whether he would need it, considering how it was not raining, but he had barely finished thinking it that a droplet of water hit him square on the nose, making him twitch and squint upwards as more raindrops came from where the first had fallen.

“Ah!”

He did not even have time to do anything but hurry to undo the latch on the umbrella and shove himself as close to a nearby house as he could for an impromptu cover, holding onto the bento boxes so they would not get wet.

He slowly opened the umbrella, watching the pattern finally reveal itself, and he was not surprised to discover it was a simple white decoration with a spiral and a kaleidoscope of butterflies moving from the centre of the umbrella towards the outer edges, painted black against the blue of the cloth.

Watanuki smiled slightly at the familiar signature he’d started to associate with Yuuko, then his casual mood shattered when he noticed there was quite a huge rip in the cloth of the wagasa, right where it connected with the central part.

“Ah! I can’t use this!” bemoaning his bad luck, Watanuki looked up, noticing with dismay that the sudden rainfall was getting worse. Then another thought made him feel even worse –what if Yuuko thought this was _his_ fault? “Aaaah! She’ll have me pay for the repairs then!”

He wrung his hands together and considered his choices carefully. If he didn’t move quickly he would get to school too late, but he had no change on himself, not even his PE clothes, which meant he would have to borrow some or go through the whole day soaking wet…

“That’s a nice umbrella you have there, boy”.

Startled out of his panicked thoughts, Watanuki almost dropped both the umbrella and the bento boxes as he spun around, pressing his back against the wall and looking at his right. The house he was using to keep out of the rain ended abruptly in a corner and there was a concrete wall surrounding the house’s garden, and sitting on top of the wall, like it was the most normal thing in the world, was… an owl.

Watanuki blinked.

It was not just an owl –it was an owl roughly the size of a person, dressed with clothes typical of feudal japan, geta sandals on his talons, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on top of his beak. His… legs… were dangling over the side of the wall, and Watanuki noticed with some degree of surprise that he was holding a big leather bag filled with what looked like… umbrellas.

He also did not seem to be bothered by the rain shower, water dripping all over his clothes and feathers and beak without apparently getting him wet.

“Eh?”

“That umbrella is pretty sturdy, good make,” the owl continued, apparently ignoring Watanuki’s surprise. “Would you mind handing it to me so I can see it closer?”

Without speaking, Watanuki closed the umbrella and reached out in the rain to hand it to the owl creature, quickly retiring back under the shelter the house wall was offering him and staring at the owl as he observed the wagasa with wide, excited eyes.

“Oh yes, what good craftsmanship!” the care the owl was using while observing the umbrella did not pass unnoticed by Watanuki, who was still too busy staring at the talking owl to take notice of much else. “Sixty ribs, reinforced stick, and it was kept with care, protected even with a wish seal…” the owl gently pressed the feathers of his winged-hand down the curve of the umbrella, then opened it with a flourish, making a soft, disappointed coo. “Such sadness it brings me to see a good wakasa broken like this…” he turned his sharp eyes towards Watanuki, and leaned forwards. “What did you do to rip the cloth in such a way?”

Watanuki took a step back and waved both hands in front of him. “Nothing, nothing! Yuuko-san let me borrow this from her today so… uh…”

The owl blinked, pushed his glasses up with his wing, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, you are _that_ person then… pardon me, what show of bad manner not to introduce myself…” he puffed his chest out. “My name is Kyoumaro, I am a wagasa mender”.

“Kyou… Kyoumaro?” Watanuki was taken aback by the common name, then promptly shook his head. “Ah, err… I’m–”

“Watanuki Kimihiro, Yuuko’s apprentice,” the owl crinkled his face in what could have passed for a wry smile. “Yes, you are rather famous in our world”.

“Err…” a little flustered, Watanuki scratched his cheek. “It seems like it,” he finally said, because he was getting used to far too many spirits knowing his name nowadays, and this one at least did not seem like it wanted to attack him.

“Sudden, unexpected rain showers are the best time for me to work,” Kyoumaro continued, nudging the bag he was carrying. It was, indeed, full of similar umbrellas of many colours and sizes, and Watanuki peeked into it with curiosity. There were only traditional wakasa in there, of many different colours and of different sizes and built. The spirit then poked the open umbrella with his wing. “It would be improper not to fix such a beauty, too, since we’ve met… do you want me to mend it up for you?”

“Oh, that would be nice! I don’t know how I’d manage to get to school without one, but… uh…” he fidgeted a bit, suddenly reminded of Yuuko’s first words of advice. “But I wouldn’t know how to pay you back for the work”.

Kyoumaro blinked, then his eyes moved to the bento boxes Watanuki was still clutching to his chest. “I can smell the scent of kushikatsu from there,” he said, tilting his head to the side sharply, reminding Watanuki that he was, indeed, a bird, not just a spirit.

“Ah, y-yes!” Watanuki fumbled with his bento boxes, and opened the top one.

In the end he had actually prepared enough kushikatsu to share with Doumeki, despite his earlier grumbling about not wanting to make things Doumeki ordered every single time, and had made probably more than enough to feed four people instead of three, just in case.

“That will suffice,” Kyoumaru said, sounding pleased. “Food you prepared with such care, one can feel it even before tasting it… yes, if it’s made from you, it will be a proper payment, indeed”.

A bit flustered by the casual compliment, Watanuki quickly offered one of the opened bento boxes to the spirit, who waved one wing over it. A row of skewers lifted off and hovered between them, filling the air with the mouth-watering smell of food, and Kyoumaro picked one of them, biting into it with his beak, making enough pleased cooing sounds that Watanuki was instantly reassured he’d done a good job.

“Ah, that was delicious indeed,” the spirit said, and with a twirl of his wing he wrapped the remaining kushikatsu in a cloth and placed them away in the folds of his shirt. “Yes, this deserves the best of my work… let’s see…”

He rummaged through his bag and took out a flat wooden container, around the size of a small jewel box, and opened it. Watanuki, despite himself, leaned forwards, ignoring the rain falling on his head to get a closer look at what the spirit was doing.

The box was filled to the brim with… Watanuki wanted to say pieces of fabric, but they were not just that. They were almost translucent, and if he had to make a comparison, they reminded him of the balloons raised by the yumekai. They looked all the same to him, but Kyoumaro sifted through them while making soft sounds under his breath, apparently seeing differences in them that Watanuki couldn’t.

He seemed to find what he was looking for, because he chose a particularly big piece of cloth and then put the box away into his bag. He paused for a moment to take a big brush from the folds of his shirt, and then gently placed the shimmery cloth over the hole on the umbrella.

Under Watanuki’s interested gaze he extended his left wing, the one (somehow) holding the brush, and let the bristles soak in the rain. He did not seem to mind how long that took, and then simply swept the brush on the corners of the translucent fabric. There was no word to describe the way the fabric of the added piece seemed to reach out for the one on the umbrella, nor how the brush’s strokes melted the two together until all sides were one smooth surface, and the glimmer was washed away by the colours of the umbrella slowly bleeding in.

Soon, the umbrella looked completely new, but Kyoumaro had not finished yet.

He swapped the brush with a finer one with a smaller tip, turned the umbrella around so that he was holding the outside towards him. The butterfly motif that spread through the surface of the fabric was obviously absent in the added piece, which now formed an empty square, and the spirit dabbed the brush against the spot. Almost as if awoken by the touch, the butterflies flapped their inky wings and shuffled a bit, slowly reassembling themselves to fill the emptiness in the middle. When he was satisfied with the result, Kyoumaro nodded to himself and put away the brush, delicately wiping the droplets of water away from the now invisible edges of the patching.

The umbrella looked new again, and Watanuki could honestly say it did not look like it had ever been damaged.

“That’s…” eyes wide, Watanuki reached out to take the umbrella from Kyoumaro’s wings, and observed it. “It looks like new,” he breathed in surprise.

Kyoumaro preened, for the lack of a better word, his feathers fluffing up in pure satisfaction at the astonished and honest praise. “Yes, well, I am quite good at my job,” he said, trying to appear modest but sounding as proud of himself as he knew he should be.

“Are you sure my kushikatsu is enough to pay for this?” worried about such a fine job receiving poor payment, Watanuki just _had_ to ask.

“Now, boy, you shouldn’t undervalue the quality of that food,” Kyoumaro shot him a hard look. “I would not have offered the exchange if I had not thought it to be right. Your employer surely expressed the importance of equal value to you, didn’t she? Yuuko-san might be quirky, but she definitely would not mess with _that_ ”.

“Ah, yes, of course!” realising he’d sounded too blunt, Watanuki closed his mouth and quietened.

It was not the first time a spirit had accepted his food as payment for something Watanuki had expected would cost more –and one time, the old lady fortune teller had also exchanged her reading for something prepared by him– but it was hard for him to accept that his food could be considered equal payment for something of this fine craft, especially when he could not remember the taste of what he prepared, not even while eating.

Still, he also knew there were many who enjoyed eating his food. Yuuko, Mokona, Himawari and Doumeki, who commented on it more often now than before… and of course, also Kohane, who was now living together with the old lady at her house, safe and away from the negative influence of her mother.

With so many people appreciating something he made, even if he himself could not… he would have to believe in them, who believed in his skills.

“I understand,” he looked up from the umbrella and met the spirit’s eyes squarely, and then offered him a wistful smile. “Thank you”.

“Likewise, boy,” the fierce smile he received should have looked odd with a beak, but Watanuki had seen enough weird things that it did not faze him at all. “Now it would be best if you tried the umbrella to see if you like my work, hmm?”

“Ah, sure!” Watanuki nodded, then took a step away from the wall and brought the umbrella to cover his head. “Well, I don’t think there will be any problem with the –oh?”

The moment he placed the umbrella above his head, something shimmered around him, and Watanuki found himself staring up at a blue, cloudless sky. Where only a second before it had been raining really hard, so much that even standing close to the wall did not really keep him safe and dry, now the sky above him was blue, just as bright as it had been the previous day. No trace whatsoever of the gloomy, dark rainclouds.

“Eh?”

He looked around, eyes wide. For a moment he thought he’d slipped into a dream again, shifting from wake to sleep without realising it, but when he looked to the side, he noticed Kyoumaro still sitting on top of the wall, looking entirely too pleased with himself, and that meant he was still awake. He had never brought over anyone with him while dreaming, so…

“What… what happened?”

The owl spirit chuckled. “Oh, so you were not aware of the details of my profession, is that so?” there was a tinge of pride in his voice, and Watanuki looked at him, still shocked. “You’re seeing one of my memory folds”.

“A… a what?” still completely baffled, Watanuki slowly removed the umbrella from his face, and suddenly everything shifted back to normal –rain once again reappeared all around him, and this time he noticed a shift in the temperature too, losing the warmth from the sun and feeling cold and wet all over again.

He hastily shoved the umbrella back over his head, and just like magic, the rain disappeared once more.

This time Watanuki was expecting it, so he noticed more than just the weather change. The streets were completely dry, no puddles on the ground, and the air was warm, not quite summer but definitely warmer than the earlier days of spring.

“Memory folds,” the spirit repeated. “It is what I used to repair the wakasa. Each fold contains a specific memory. In your case, I said I would use my best, so I fixed the umbrella with a memory of sun. I think it’s one of my best works so far, don’t you agree? Just like new, indeed”.

“A… memory of sun?” Watanuki extended one arm out of the umbrella, expecting to feel the rain on his fingers even without seeing it, but was instead surprised to feel the sunrays on his skin. “Oh… that is…” he glanced at the spirit owl again. “Really convincing!”

“That’s because the memories I collect are some of the most powerful,” once again looking proud, Kyoumaro fluffed up his feathers. “But now, I think it is time for me to seek out my other customers. Would you bring my greetings to Yuuko-san for me?”

“Of course!” bowing down quickly, Watanuki carefully kept the umbrella over his head, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “Thank you so much for your help!”

“It was a real pleasure to work on that beautiful umbrella, and to receive such a delicious payment for my job, too…” then, with a flourish, Kyoumaro plucked one of his feathers from his neck and offered it to Watanuki. “This is for your employer, in case she might find herself in need of my services again in the future. She will know what to do with it”.

Watanuki looked down at the brown feather, and was surprised to see the spirit’s name written on it in chicken-scratch handwriting. Much less surprising was to find out that ‘Kyoumaro’ was written using the kanji for owl, _fukurou_ , which could in fact be read as ‘kyou’. With this, the name looked way less underwhelming, and Watanuki found himself stifling an amused snort.

With a last, satisfied nod, the owl spirit hoisted his umbrella bag onto one shoulder, spread his arm-wings wide, and took off in the air. He hovered for a moment, flapped his wings hard, and then circled past a lamppost, disappearing from sight with a flicker.

Watanuki watched him go, still somewhat flustered at the sudden, unexpected meeting, then realised with a start that he was really late, and with a soft curse under his breath he took off towards the school.

***

“That sounds delightful!”

Himawari clapped her hands together, distracted from petting Tanpopo by Watanuki’s tale. Watanuki smiled brightly at her, gently patting the umbrella which was drying at his side.

Since it was still raining, the three of them could not go outside to eat, so they had relocated to a quiet spot near the roof of the school. Doumeki and Himawari had listened to Watanuki’s story with various degrees of interest (in Doumeki’s case, his eyes kept moving towards the bento boxes, obviously waiting to see just how much of his food had been sacrificed to the unknown spirit), Himawari obviously being the most vocal about it.

Watanuki rolled his eyes and finally slid the bento boxes over so that Doumeki could get one.

“You made kushikatsu,” Doumeki’s was not a question, just a statement, uttered even before opening the box, so of course Watanuki got annoyed about it.

“I really should have done something else,” he muttered. “Next time I’ll give a spirit all your share, or better then –I’ll give it to Kohane-chan! Then you will definitely stop taking my food for granted!”

“I never do,” was the quiet reply, followed by Doumeki biting into the skewered meat, quickly finishing it off before starting on the side onigiri.

Watanuki blinked, glancing at him from where he was opening a thermos of hot tea. It had happened again –a casual comment made by Doumeki that he would usually overlook, but that somehow lately seemed to catch his attention instead. Not quite a compliment, but enough that Watanuki was thrown off a bit.

“Doumeki-kun really enjoys the food Watanuki-kun prepares every day for him, just like Watanuki-kun enjoys preparing it for him!” Himawari chose that moment to speak up, cheerful and in Watanuki’s option, entirely misunderstanding the situation.

“I do _not_!” he denied, feeling a wave of embarrassment flare up inside him. “Now if it were for you, Himawari-chan, that’d be different!” he added quickly, smiling warmly at her. “It’s just that I enjoy cooking, and he reaps up the results of my hard work because he happens to be around, that’s all there is to it,” he glared at Doumeki, who dared looking unaffected by his heated dislike.

“But Watanuki-kun always seems to prepare what Doumeki-kun asks, and you wouldn’t do it if it really bothered you, right?” Himawari looked somewhat perplexed, though it was obvious she still thought Watanuki was just joking around as usual. Tanpopo chirped softly, as if to nod along with her words.

“Eh… that is…” Watanuki trailed off.

There wasn’t really a cut-out explanation as to why he gave in so easily to Doumeki’s requests, just the same way he couldn’t really explain why it grated so much to his nerves to see him every day, even when Doumeki’s presence seemed to always _help_.

Maybe it was just easier to go along with Doumeki’s food requests (unless they were absurd ones) than it was to ignore him, but acknowledging the fact made Watanuki almost uncomfortable, and he was reminded of the spirit owl’s words regarding his food –that it was made with care– and once again he was left feeling out of sorts.

So what if it was easier to keep quiet rather than admit that he didn’t _really_ mind too much doing Doumeki’s favourite dishes all the time? Better than to make his ego inflate even more. One didn’t have to be _honest_ all the time, after all.

Right?

Without warning, Watanuki was suddenly reminded of Yuuko’s words, spoken to him what felt like a long time before–

_“You can’t return to a time when you didn’t notice anymore”._

“A-anyway, Himawari-chan…” not wanting to give it too much of a thought, because he was pretty sure he would not really like the answer, Watanuki decided to ponder about Doumeki later, and instead focus on things that actually mattered. “If we’re going back home together today, then we could perhaps share the umbrella, so–”

“Ah, I’m sorry Watanuki-kun!” clapping her hands together and looking really apologetic, Himawari shook her head with a sheepish smile. “I have to go home earlier today since mom asked… maybe another day perhaps?”

Deflating a bit, Watanuki hid his disappointment behind a small smile. “Of course! It’s no problem Himawari-chan!”

“Oi”.

“My name is not ‘oi’!” he snapped instantly, and glared at Doumeki, who was looking at him with his chopsticks held up in the air, snapping at nothing. “What is it? If you are about to ask for some kind of impossible food for tomorrow, I’m already saying _no_!”

Doumeki said nothing, just looking at him patiently, then turned away and plucked the last of his meal and popped it into his mouth.

Watanuki sighed and shook his head; he really had a hard time understanding that big oaf.

“You should make yakitarako onigiri next time,” was what Doumeki said afterwards, while the three of them walked down the stairs to their respective classes.

Watanuki opened his mouth to say something scathing, but then he realised that compared to most things Doumeki had asked in the past, this was actually rather tame, and shrugged.

“Seems like you’re learning to tone it down,” he muttered.

“… and feudal udon”.

“I already said there is no such thing as feudal udon! No matter how many times you ask!”

Doumeki grunted, waving at the two of them before continuing down the corridor to his class. Watanuki and Himawari watched him go for a moment, then moved on as well.

They walked down the corridor in silence, then Watanuki finally gathered enough courage to speak up and ask what had been on his mind sine earlier. He opened his mouth, but Himawari beat him to it.

“I promise I really have stuff to do with my mom,” she told him, sneaking a careful, guilty glance at him. “We can go home together tomorrow, ok?”

Watanuki nodded, somewhat relieved at her admission, hands clutching Yuuko’s umbrella. Maybe they would not have a chance for that, the next day, but Himawari’s promise made him smile anyway. He had to be careful around Himawari, but he couldn’t let her distance herself. Maybe it was a weird sort of selfishness, since he knew what her presence meant, especially without Doumeki, but Watanuki had started to learn that he could be selfish, if he wanted to be. And if he liked her enough to want to be around her as much as he could, then so be it.

As he had expected, the rain did not let up for the rest of the school day, and Watanuki kept sneaking glances at the sky during his last class.

He didn’t really mind rain normally, and the gloomy weather did nothing to his mood. Rain also seemed to affect the creatures that chased him, making them perhaps more sluggish, so all in all Watanuki truly had no problem with rainy days, but… he glanced at the umbrella, casually propped up against his desk, and smiled.

His chance meeting with the owl spirit, a bit like the one with the kitsune from the oden shop, was definitely a good one.

It was, he thought later, quite a weird feeling to calmly walk out of the school building, enjoying what for him was a perfectly sunny day, with his umbrella open to shield him from the sun, and watch other students hurry to avoid rain that he could not see.

He idly wondered how he looked like to them –if they could even see him, if Himawari and Doumeki were now the only other people ( _humans_ ), aside for Kohane and Yuuko and the fortune teller lady, who could still see him– then shook his head slightly, not wanting to let himself go there.

One of his classmates ran past him with his jacket clutched over his head. Watanuki stopped to watch him, trying to see just how far the memory’s illusion could go; he could see the water droplets on the student’s jacket, and that his shirt’s sleeves and the edge of his pants were wet, but to him it looked like he was shielding himself from the sun rather than a heavy downpour, which looked quite… weird.

The memory’s power was surprisingly strong, really –Watanuki knew it was raining hard, but he could not even hear the sound of the rain, and he was probably walking into puddles, but his feet remained dry, as did the rest of his body.

Yes, it truly was a good thing he’d met the umbrella mender.

He reconsidered his stance when not even a minute later, he watched Doumeki walk by him without noticing him, school bag held above his head, and soaking wet. It was obvious that oaf had left his umbrella at home despite the bad weather, and was now paying the consequences of his mistake.

Watanuki reacted without thinking, and later on he would blame himself for acting like that, but before he could even consider it he’d already moved, reaching out to grab Doumeki’s arm and tugging him under the umbrella.

It was a tight fit, because Doumeki was taller than Watanuki and had wider shoulders and frame, and Watanuki had to move the umbrella from one hand to the other so he would not knock himself or Doumeki in the head with it.

Doumeki blinked at the sudden change, one hand coming to wipe the water from his forehead and eyes, noticing instantly the lack of rain, and then looked at Watanuki almost in surprise.

Watanuki found himself on the other end of that gaze, and it made him both angry and embarrassed. Angry because what did Doumeki expect him to do, let him walk around like a drowned rat? And Embarrassed because, well. He hadn’t expected this either, and now felt incredibly awkward.

“You’d think I’d let you walk around like an idiot? If you get sick, I’ll be the one having to spoon-feed you until you’re better, so just suck it up and bow to my endless grace and magnanimity!”

Doumeki covered one ear with his finger, waited for Watanuki to end his tirade, then moved his hand to take a hold of the umbrella handle as well, shifting it slightly so it was a bit higher than before. Watanuki refused to let go, though, and that made him feel even more awkward, since now they were not just sharing the umbrella, but also holding it together… something that reminded him of the time they had seen the Spirit Parade.

If Mokona had been there, he would have had a field day, Watanuki thought with a shameful flush.

Or worse, Himawari –he could picture her happy smile and her careless, blunt words as if she was truly there with them, and it made everything worse…

“Weird,” was the only thing Doumeki said, eyes still taking in his surroundings.

Watanuki took a deep breath. There was a compressed ball of tension at the base of his throat and he tried with no avail to dislodge it, but it refused to budge. He had no idea why this situation was so annoying, just that it _was_.

“But useful,” he grunted out, carefully looking ahead instead of at Doumeki. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to get to Yuuko-san’s place before the day ends!”

They walked along the road in silence, and if Watanuki had thought it weird before, to be by himself enjoying the memory of a sunny day, now it was even more so, because he was not alone anymore.

Instead of focusing on that, or on the cold coming from Doumeki’s wet clothes seeping into his own arm from where the two were pressed together holding the umbrella, Watanuki decided to talk about something else instead.

“That spirit liked my kushikatsu,” he blurted out. Not exactly what he’d wanted to say, but he could work from there.

Now Doumeki’s attention was on him again, the weight of his stare making Watanuki feel under some sort of pressure, and he swallowed around the knot in his throat.

“It was good,” Doumeki nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Watanuki suddenly understood why the spirit owl had looked so happy when Watanuki had complimented him for his work –the coil of satisfaction inside his chest at Doumeki’s words did make him feel accomplished.

“Ah– that’s not… I wasn’t fishing for compliments, don’t go thinking that!”

Doumeki regarded him with a wry look, clearly conveying how ludicrous he found Watanuki’s words to be. “You wouldn’t,” he easily admitted, finally looking away. “For how much you boast about the things you make, you look like it surprises you when people like them”.

Once again Watanuki was left speechless, both by Doumeki’s blunt comment and by the meaning of his words, and he quickly turned his head around to hide his face. “Well, what I meant was…” he paused.

Through his jumbled thoughts, he wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, not really. It was nice to know his food could satisfy spirits and humans alike, but what he wanted to know was more complex than that, and he was not sure how to word it correctly.

Was it presumptuous of him to think that the feelings he conveyed through his food were tied to himself? He could not taste his own food, could not even remember what flavour it had while he cooked it, but it was always perfect when other people ate it.

If he was human, if he existed –outside of a dream or inside one, he still had to _believe_ he existed– what sort of taste did his food have, that everybody else could feel it but not him?

It was frustrating, because the first time he’d met the old lady fortune teller, she had also said that a good meal made with care was ‘enough’, but Watanuki had still been blind about himself, back then. Things had seemed _normal_ back then.

And now, he could not go back to _that_ feeling. He could _pretend_ things were normal, that he wasn’t slipping further and further away, that he didn’t notice how his past was patched up and filled with holes, just like Yuuko’s umbrella –but he couldn’t run from it.

He could not go back to a time when he did not notice, and just as Doumeki’s grandfather said, he was changing, and moving forwards, regardless of whether it was a good or a bad thing.

The more he was made to notice, the more he wanted things to go back to normal, but they had never been normal –he’d just been waiting. For what? For Yuuko?

He could not remember his parents’ names, or their faces. He could not remember his class year, or the taste of his own food. Yet he knew there was something there –some sort of purpose, and he would cling to that feeling.

And how could he explain all of this to Doumeki, when he couldn’t even explain it to himself? Talking to Yuuko would have been better –she would know what he meant, even if she still kept silent about it. Yuuko seemed to know everything, all the time… or if not everything, then _enough_.

Why Doumeki? Why was it so easy to share things with him, talk to him, when he got so annoyed about it afterwards? It made no sense… just another part of why Doumeki’s presence made him unsettled, and…

Well, it was not just that. There were moments, just like now, when Watanuki did not feel like that. It wasn’t just when there was Himawari to act as a buffer, or Yuuko and Mokona to distract him from how annoying he found Doumeki. If he did not think about it, if he just relaxed, tentatively –he was… content, perhaps, even just with him.

He did not understand that either.

Watanuki took a deep sigh, then looked up, and extended his free hand outside of the umbrella. The sun felt nice, even if it was just a memory, but it was real enough to him that he could enjoy it, here and now, and if he had to share it with Doumeki, well… even that was ok, then.

He was not sure how long he still had to enjoy these things anymore.

In a way, his cooking was exactly like this memory –as long as someone enjoyed it, wasn’t it enough? The person who had experienced this sunny day could not feel it anymore. They would enjoy more sunny days, maybe, but not this one, ever again. Instead, it was Watanuki, and now also Doumeki, who’d ended up sharing it.

“… nothing,” he finally said, lips twitching up in a smile that was only a little bit bitter. “This is just a memory, but I’m sure we’ll have a lot of sunny days soon”.

Doumeki twisted his neck to stare him down, and Watanuki could feel the weight of that stare on him again, but somehow he felt less bothered by it now, as if he’d just reached a conclusion all on his own, even if that wasn’t really what had happened.

“Did you hit your head with the umbrella earlier today?”

Watanuki felt his quiet, zen-like mood dry up instantly. “Perhaps you could be a little less of an asshole just for once!”

Doumeki did not answer, looking ahead of him, but the hand holding the umbrella tightened just a fraction, and shifted lower a little bit. Watanuki looked at it, how it was hovering, just an inch away from his own hand, and felt like he was on the brink of realising the something he was missing.

That inch that separated their hands was just as small –and as big– as the distance between him and understanding that _something_ … it was there, not really out of reach, but not here yet. He just had to close the distance, and then he would…

“You should make konbu onigiri tomorrow”.

Watanuki took a deep breath and looked away from Doumeki’s hand and to the sun-bathed street in front of him.

He was starting to think that maybe… maybe he understood Doumeki. Just a little bit.

“Maybe,” he said. “But you should learn to ask a little more _politely_ ”.

“… and eel”.

Watanuki grunted, but just this once, he decided not to get too angry.

***

Yuuko glanced outside of the shop’s lawn, observing the dark creature with the shape of a two-headed crow as it fluttered around the perimeter of the outer wall, confused for a moment when it could not enter.

“They are getting bolder,” Yuuko’s voice held no trace of worry, but there was a wrinkle on her forehead that expressed her exact feelings on the matter. “But there is still no way for them to enter, not yet”.

She waved one hand, and the shimmery protective spell surrounding the shop sent a wave of power that disrupted the crow, making it disintegrate into thin air.

Mokona frowned, shuffling a bit, and unconsciously brought one paw to touch the earring he wore.

Around them, the shop seemed to contract, the air itself slowly expanding like a flame devouring paper, revealing nothing underneath but an empty lot, then quickly reassessed itself into reality, and Yuuko closed her eyes for a moment, connecting the pulsating energy of the shop with her own.

Something had shifted, only slightly, but it was shifting in the right direction. There wasn’t much longer to wait, but she still had the hope that the right choice would be made.

“Watanuki’s coming,” Mokona said, his tone changing the mood instantly.

Yuuko looked to the right, and watched with an amused smirk Watanuki and Doumeki walk down the street and towards the shop, both holding her umbrella together, and she felt a wave of fondness for Watanuki, who was so lost and who had lost so much, but who was trying so hard to gain something back.

Mokona bounced happily out of the patio and into the rain, which was finally slowing into a drizzle, and hurried towards the two teens, laughing as he did so. “Watanuki, hurry up I want to drink sake~!”

She was left behind to wait for them, and the entire shop seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Watanuki’s arrival.

“The path of all living things can be taken only one step at a time,” Yuuko murmured to herself, watching as Watanuki and Doumeki tried and failed to avoid Mokona as he slammed right into Watanuki’s face, making him let go of the umbrella and fall on the ground, right into a puddle. “But it is not a path that one can always walk on their own, and for someone who is trying so hard to keep on existing, there is no way you can keep walking all alone, Watanuki. Connections tie us to reality, and each and every time you meet someone, you change your own path, and also theirs, and the more meetings you have, the more you are tied down into reality, the more you prove you exist”.

Outside of the perimeter of the shop, Watanuki started yelling at Mokona, though his words were lost in the distance and in the sound of rain falling.

Yuuko watched as Doumeki slowly offered him a hand, and Watanuki, after a brief pause to look at it, and then up at Doumeki’s face, finally accepted it, and was lifted up on his feet, back under the umbrella even if now he was soaked and dirty.

“Do not disappear, Watanuki”.

He turned around and spotted her, and for a precious, single moment a smile lit up his face, making him seem younger and completely unburdened.

With a grin, she cupped her mouth with both hands, and took a deep breath.

“Watanuki! Hurry up, there is plum liquor waiting for you to pour it out for us!”

Once again his reply was lost in the rain, but his incensed expression said it all, and Yuuko allowed herself a fond smile as she waited for her children to get there, back into the safety of the shop.

For a little bit longer, it was still safe.

 

**OMAKE**

 

“So you’ve met with Kyoumaro-san, did you?”

Watanuki nodded, holding out the umbrella to Yuuko; she did not take it from him, and merely smiled, the kind of enigmatic smile that said she knew more than she should have.

“It was a surprising meeting,” he admitted, then hesitated before adding, “Yuuko-san, I…”

“What is it?” she regarded him with half-lidded eyes, leaning back against the reclining chair, and Watanuki’s fingers clenched around the edges of the umbrella as he looked down at it.

He thought back about the spirit, and about what that meeting made him wonder, then he thought about Shaoran, who had paid a price for him once, and then he thought about Himawari and Doumeki, and his grip on the umbrella relaxed.

“I… I was wondering if it would be ok for me to sleep at the shop tonight?” he asked instead, glancing up at her almost shyly.

“Why, Watanuki, that can definitely be arranged…” she smiled, and for a moment her smile softened into something fond and wistful, before it twisted back into a sly one. “For a price, that is!”

Instead of feeling dejected or annoyed at her reply, Watanuki found himself smiling cheekily.

“Oh, how convenient,” he said, one hand on his hip. “I was thinking on making kakuni for dinner tonight, I wonder if that would suffice”.

Yuuko’s eyes widened in surprise, then the fond smile from before returned once more. “Oh my, Watanuki, how bold of you,” she leaned forwards and patted his hair once, then again. “I guess you’re finally learning a bit of cunningness, hmm?”

“I learn from the best,” he replied.

“Well then!” she clapped her hands together. “Kakuni it is! Of course, only if it’s accompanied by some premium quality sake!”

“Of course, of course,” he stood up, stretching his arms above his head, and placed the umbrella on the floor in front of her. “I’d better start working, or we’ll eat too late and we’ll have nightmares tonight!”

His footsteps were light and bouncy as he left the room, and Yuuko watched him go, still smiling, and pressed one hand gently on the edge of the umbrella.

“Such a good memory, this one,” she murmured, picking up the wakasa and opening it with a flourish. Outside the window, the rain was washed away by bright sunshine, heat pooling into the room, enveloping her. “We can only hope this memory will become reality, and that it will bring us sunshine soon…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> **Glossary:**
> 
> wakasa - traditional parasol/umbrella used in Japan for both rain and sun protection, it is composed by two distinct layers of fabric painted with a special oil that keeps it water-resistant.
> 
> kushikatsu - seasoned, skewered and grilled meat.
> 
> agedashi dofu - deep fried tofu cut in cubes and covered with potato starch typically served with hot broth.
> 
> sanma no shioyaki - pacific saury grilled in salt.
> 
> hiramasa sashimi - fresh yellowtail cut in thin slices and served raw.
> 
> saba - mackarel.
> 
> yakitarako onigiri - rice balls with roasted cod roe filling.
> 
> konbu onigiri - rice balls with kelp filling.
> 
> kakuni - braised pork cubes simmered in soy sauce, other ingredients, sugar and sake, sometimes accompanied with eggs or vegetables.


End file.
